


It's Big Fun!

by wierdrocks



Category: Glee, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Coming Out, Crossover, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Punk Quinn, Sebastian Smythe Needs a Hug, Songfic, Trans Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wierdrocks/pseuds/wierdrocks
Summary: The fact is, Sebastian Smythe blinded Blaine Anderson. Therefore, him inviting New Directions to a house party as place for the express purpose of trashing the place is Highly Suspect. Andthereforeit would be a bad idea for them, a bunch of mutants who can only attend public school because no one has died yet, to take him up on that offer. Obviously!==My friends and I made another of our friends watch Glee for the first time, and I'm a giant nerd, so I wrote this.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, Carl Howell/Emma Pillsbury, Finn Hudson/Noah Puckerman, Sam Evans/Mercedes Jones, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Things I don't care about:  
> 1) Mapping these events to a particular Glee season or timeline beyond "vaguely around the time Sebastian Smythe threw rock salt at Blaine cause he's a petty bitch"  
> 2) Ryan Murphy's bullshit excuse for character arcs  
> 3) Rachel Berry's original personality

_This is the problem: Sebastian Smythe blinded Blaine Anderson. _

“That's not exactly what happened.”

A sigh, a grumble. _Sebastian Smythe tricked Blaine Anderson into hanging out with him so he could blind them_.

“There are still key elements being misrepresented here.”

Alright fine!

_Sebastian Smythe tricked Blaine Anderson into a situation which _resulted in_ Blaine losing an eye. He still has the other one, and his depth perception has really improved since the incident._

“But! That doesn't take away from the stone cold fact that _Sebastian Smythe did a hate crime_.” Santana underlined those last four words several times in red marker before switching back to the black one she'd been using for the rest of her notes. “What else do we know about Sebastian Smythe?” She asked no one in particular, though Kurt did supply helpfully:

"He's an asshole."

Santana wrote ASSHOLE and SMARMY TWINK under Sebastian's name.

"We know he hates mutants," Finn said. RACIST went down on the board.

"Thank you, Finnward!" Santana shouted. "Finally a useful contribution.”  
"I just wanted us to have our facts straight is all," Finn said. "It was Arthur who actually threw the rocksalt at the mutant Warblers, Sebastian just..." he trailed off, gesturing abstractly with his shoulders. Santana wrote COLLUDED WITH RACIST FATHER on the board. Finn nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam put his hand in the air. Of the people gathered in the choir room—him, Finn, Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, Zizes, and Tina—Sam was the only one who hadn't been around when this whole thing went down. "Hang on, if there's proof the Smythes hurt Blaine and the other Warblers, why didn't anyone press charges?"

"Blaine was the only one seriously hurt," Kurt explained. "And the Andersons didn't want to start shit with the Smythes. Frankly, I don’t blame them. Those bastards practically own half of Ohio."

"And it’s the half that isn't corn fields," Finn said. "So it matters."

"Corn matters," Rachel said. Finn made a face and shook his head at her.

"We're getting off topic," Santana said. She wrote DECEITFUL on the board. "This is my main point," she underlined it in red. "We cannot trust this little rat bastard."

"So?" Zizes spoke up for the first time. She was sitting in the back row of the risers with her arms folded over her chest. "He's offering us the chance to get back at his dad and fuck up that shitty McMansion of theirs. I say we do it.”

"Oh because that'll look real great," Kurt sighed. “A bunch of mutant teenagers marched into the former lieutenant governor’s house and broke all his stuff in an act of callous revenge. I can see the headlines now.”

Santana wrote HIGH RISK FACTOR on the board. “This is what I am saying. No matter how fun it’s gonna be, there will be a consequence and that is exactly what Sebastian-” She scribbled over his dumb name on the board. “-wants. We can’t just hand it over to him.”

“What’re our options for covering it up?” Zizes asked. “Brittney could do her whole,” she gestured vaguely in front of her. “Thing.” Santana wrote BRITS REALITY WARP on the board. 

“This is a potential news story we’re talking about, Lauren,” Kurt said gently. “Love her to death, but I don’t know if Brittany’s powerful enough to make it so a statewide, or LuPone forbid, national audience, forget about something like that.”

“You’re thinking too wife,” Zizes said. “We don’t have to cover up a news story if the story doesn’t get out.” She walked over to the white board and grabbed another black marker. She wrote THE SMYTHES next to Santana’s previous note. “We make it so they don’t even think to say mutants did this.”

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. “That might work.”

“Brittany’s powers don’t usually effect memories though,” Santana said. “I think. I mean—It’s not telepathy, so… Y’all, no tengo ni puta idea.”

“Where is Brittany?” Sam asked.

“Student council meeting,” Tina supplied. “Q’s there too now that she’s 11th grade vice president. Puck’s at volleyball, Mike and the artist formerly known as Artie have Future Leaders of America—”

“Still think they should just call themself Lancelot,” Finn murmured. The artist formerly known as Artie had recently asked for suggestions for their new name now that they were out as nonbinary.

“Isn’t that gendered?” Rachel asked.

Finn shrugged. “Nah.”

“And Blaine had time and a half for that geography test we had last period,” Tina finished. 

“You guys talking about me?” Blaine’s voice sounded out from behind the white board. Blaine, to thier credit, was taking the whole one-eyed thing as best he could. They'd ordered himself a set of custom eye patches, all of which were coordinated to match their collection of waistcoats and bow ties. That day, they wore an orange one to go with his fall-themed outfit. 

“We’re talking about Sebastian’s party invite,” Tina smiled at them. 

Blaine looked at her strangely and stopped short when they saw the white board. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Santana said. “We’re discussing this as a fucking family.”

“There are pros and cons,” Finn said. 

“Pros like what?” Blaine asked incredulously as he came over to sit next to Kurt. 

“Getting to wreck the Smythe’s McMansion,” Sam said. “I would personally feel an unearthly amount of vindication for doing so.” Zizes wrote FUCK RICH PEOPLE on the whiteboard. 

“And the cons being going to jail for vandalism,” Blaine said.

“Basically,” Sam nodded. 

Blaine shook their head. “Come on, guys, we know this is a fucking trap. Why bother?”

“That’s what I was saying,” Santana pointed at DECEITFUL on the board. “There was talk of having Brittany do some warp stuff.”

“Can she do that?”

“Unclear. When’s student council get out?”

Mercedes checked her phone. “Two minutes ago.”

Santana nodded. “Brittany always sticks around to eat the leftover refreshments. It’ll be a minute.”

“So we’ll put a pin in this,” Zizes wrote a question mark next to REALITY WARP. 

Eventually Brittany and Quinn did arrive, the former loaded down with powdered doughnuts and the former fresh off a victory for dress code violators everywhere. “Non-natural hair colors are once again welcome at McKinley,” She announced, whipping off her bandana to reveal her own hot pink bob. Her friends clapped. 

“Why’s my name on the board?” Brittany asked around a mouthful of doughnut. “Am I in trouble?”

“Brittany, how do your powers work?” Finn asked. “Is it like a memory thing or perception or…” 

Brittany thought for a moment, swallowed her doughnut, and handed the box to Blaine. “So, you know how your shirt’s blue?” 

Finn looked down. “Yeah.”

“It’s red, actually.” 

Finn furrowed his brow and looked down again. The blue and white striped shirt he’d been wearing under his hoodie was now in fact red and white. He jumped. “What the fuck?”

“And, it’s actually red. It’s not an illusion or anything.” She licked powder off her fingers. “I made it so my cat poops candy bars.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “Oh Brittany, please don’t tell me you eat them.”

Brittany shrugged. “Only the first couple times.” There was a short pause so everyone could be reviled. 

Santana took a deep breath. “Corazón, do you think you could make it look like we didn’t actually trash chateau Smythe?”

Brittany thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Too big.”

“Could you put the mansion back together again after we trash it?” Finn asked. “Or is that the same size?”

“Probably the same size,” Brittany nodded. “Too big.” 

“You guys really don't have to get back at Sebastian for me. I'm over it." Blaine shrugged.

"Bitch you are disabled!” Santana said as their remaining missing club members filed in, Mike and they who were once named Artie chatting quietly and Puck carrying their gym duffle, which got tossed into a corner. 

“Oh shit,” Puck said, gesturing at the board. “Are we doing that?” Puck sat next to Finn and the two of them linked hands.

“No,” Blaine shook his head. 

“Why not?” Mike asked. He sat next to Tina and kissed her cheek in greeting. “We’d avenge you if you asked.” 

“I’m not asking.”

Santana scoffed. “Blaine, shut the fuck up, okay? If Artie'd—fuck, Formerly Artie,”

“It’s okay,” they wheeled over to sit next to Sam and Finn in the front row. “I’m narrowing the list down.”

“It’s not okay, don’t let me off the hook like that,” Santana put her hands on her hips. 

“Fuck you, Santana,” they said calmly. “Please don’t deadname me.” 

“Thank you,” she nodded, then turned to Blaine again. “If any of us had been around when Not-Artie had gotten into that car accident we would have put that car in Lake Erie.”

"Driver still inside," Puck said with an ominous kind of certainty.

"Aw," they smiled. "That's really sweet, guys."

Rachel nodded. "When Karofsky was giving Kurt shit, Mercedes stood outside his window and sang lesser-known Whitney tracks until he left him alone." Kurt reached over and squeezed Mercedes' hand. She smiled at him. 

"After my dad lost his job, Rachel convinced her dads to let me family move in with them," Sam said. "It’s not exactly the same thing, but the point is we look out for each other."

Blaine shook his head. "Okay, but none of those things were gonna get you guys labeled terrorists. Maybe the car thing."

"Depends on if anyone caught us," Puck said. 

" _My_ point is that messing with the Smythes is asking for trouble. And if Sebastian's inviting you in, it's because he's got something up his sleeve. I don’t want any of you getting hurt because of me."

Tina turned so she could put a hand on Blaine’s knee where they sat on the top row of the risers. “As much as I'd like to destroy Smythe Manor with you guys, if Blaine doesn't want us getting involved, then we should leave it alone.” She looked at Santana, who folded her arms and tongued the inside of her cheek. “You said yourself Santana, it’s high risk.” Blaine put his hand over Tina’s.

“But higher reward,” Zizes tapped the white board with her marker.

“No, Tina’s right,” Satana sighed and rolled her eyes. “If Blaine’s not into it, we shouldn’t go starting shit.” She put her marker down. “But! Mark my words, nerds.” She looked around the choir room at them. “If that twinky asshole comes anywhere near anyone I care about again, I will fry him from the inside out.” Electricity crackled through her hair. 

"As is your goddamn right," Kurt nodded. That was when Dr. Pillsbury came into the room with a stack of sheet music under her arm, sealed in an accordion envelope to prevent paper cuts. 

Dr. Pillsbury had gotten a haircut recently as part of a pledge to be more spontaneous. Her pastel ginger locks now ended just at the tops of her ears. The first time the glee club had seen her with it, they'd erupted into applause. She was wearing dangling, strawberry earrings that day, and a cardigan with strawberry-shaped buttons. "Good afternoon everyone. How is everyone doing?" 

They answered her in a gentle wave of overlapping greetings. She passed out the sheet music, asking each of them to be careful as she did. Then she stepped around to the back of the white board and several people cursed under their breath. "Let's get up and start out warm ups so—" Dr. Pillsbury stopped abruptly. She stepped around the side of the white board and looked at them, her large eyes filled with concern. She turned the white board over so the side with Santana's notes was facing them again. "What?" She pointed to it.

"Sebastian Smythe invited us to a party," Santana shrugged. "There are pros and cons."

"We were just discussing," Finn said sheepishly. 

Dr. Pillsbury’s jaw set. “Why would Sebastian Smythe invite you all to a party?”

“He wants to wreck his parents’ house,” Puck said. “And we have superpowers.” 

“I really want to discourage you from using your abilities to do violence, especially property damage. People care so much about property damage.” She pulled up a chair and sat in front of the risers with her hands folded in her lap. “I know it isn’t fair, but each one of you represents every mutant in existence. Especially now that there are so many mutants attending regular public school—if even one of you is convicted of something violent involving your powers, such an incident can be used against all of us. I’m going to say again: that is not fair. It’s ridiculous and stupid, but it is the reality we live in right now. I’m so sorry.”

“We decided against it, Doc,” Tina said.

Dr. Pillsbury nodded. “Thank you.” She looked around at them. “I’m sorry to start practice out on such a sour note.” 

“It’s fine,” Blaine said. “Love to be reminded of my own powerlessness.” Dr. Pillsbury gave them a sympathetic smile and erased the whiteboard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Representation? In *my* glee???

Once rehearsal ended, Dr. Pillsbury asked everyone to stick around for a little bit so she could talk about the theme for the club’s monthly showcase. The showcase was something she’d come up with in addition to their smaller weekly assignments in order to encourage creativity or whatever, but there was also a plastic trophy and a box of Red Vines at stake each month, and that was the important part. 

“This month,” Dr. Pillsbury had said those many weeks ago. “I want everyone to try and pick a song from a Broadway musical to sing for their showcase. I know not everyone in the club is a musical fan, but Broadway offers a wide breadth of pieces for you to choose from that you might otherwise overlook or not be aware of—and those who are into Broadway, I want you to try and get out of your comfort zone.”

Finn was standing between Rachel and Kurt while Dr. Pillsbury was talking, and he could feel the two of making angry eye contact through him. At least neither of them were gifted with laser vision. 

Once that was settled, the thirteen of them scattered to their respective winds; home or to the Lima Bean or elsewhere in the building for another afterschool activity. Finn, not having football practice that day, was planning to head home with Kurt. 

“Hey,” Puck, sunglasses on and looking apprehensive, gestured for Finn of follow him. “Need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Finn said with a nod. He hugged Rachel goodbye and told Kurt he would see him at home. 

The two of them walked in silence for a while. Finn mentally went over everything that had happened in the past two weeks or so, searching for something he’d done wrong overlooked. Their anniversary wasn’t until December, and it was nowhere near Puck’s birthday. He almost wished he had fucked up somewhere, because otherwise this _had_ to be about the previous weekend, when Finn said ‘I love you’ for the first time and Puck had just stared at him. At the time, Finn had felt a little hurt, but if Puck didn’t feel the same way, he wasn’t about to push the issue. But maybe he’d moved too fast, and now Puck wanted to slow down. That was valid, wasn’t it? Of course it was—they’d only been dating for a few months. Why had Finn said I love you so fast? That was stupid. He should’ve just kept his big mouth shut so—

“Hudson,” Puck said forcefully. Finn stopped short and stared. “We’ve known each other since kindergarten, Finn, I know when you’re thinking yourself into an anxiety spiral. Fuckin’ stop it.” Puck grabbed his hand and squeezed. 

“Sorry,” Finn said quietly. 

“You’re fine. Now listen: I love you.”

Finn’s face lit up. “Oh my god, Puck, I love you too. I was so worried that—it doesn’t matter, cause you said it back. Holy shit, I love you too I—”

“Shut up, I’m not done.” Puck started walking again, and there was another long pause. “So you know how I’m the baddest bisexual butch at McKinley?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded. “I really like that about you. That you’re comfortable with yourself, I mean. Plus I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. Resume your shutted up status now.” Puck shot him a look and Finn made a key turning gesturing at the corner of his mouth. Fully shutted up. “I’m trying to tell you that I might not actually be as butch as I thought.”

“That’s okay,” Finn said. He didn’t see the way Puck’s eyes rolled. “I talked to Kurt about this once, actually—not about you, I was confused about femme-butch spectrum—anyway, he said gender presentation is fluid and just because someone dresses more femininely doesn’t mean they don’t still have big butch energy, and you definitely—”

Finn stopped short as Puck turned on the spot and stood in front of him. “Finn, I’m a guy.” 

Finn paused. “Kurt said that it used to be that people of any gender could use femme or butch as long as they were queer, and I think we should bring that back because—”

“Holy shit, Hudson,” Puck ran his hands down his face. 

Finn stepped closer to him and put his hands on his hips. “Are you okay?” 

Puck peaked out at Finn from between his fingers. “I’m fine. You’re the one whose girlfriend is trans.”

“My boyfriend,” Finn said quietly. “Right?” He smiled.

Puck slid his arms around Finn’s neck and kissed him. “You’re very calm about this.”

“Did you expect me to freak out?” Finn smiled against Puck’s mouth. 

“You kinda do that.”

“I don’t freak out. Do I?” Finn furrowed his brow. Puck pulled back from him and made a face. Finn sighed. “Okay, okay, fine.” He pecked Puck’s lips again. “But I’m not freaking out about this.”

*

About 30 minutes later, Finn was pacing the length of the bedroom he shared with his stepbrother. Kurt sat cross-legged on his vanity stool stirring a latte and waiting for the moment when Finn paused long enough for him to say something.

"So you're worried that this makes you gay?" Kurt asked, head cocked to one side. Finn had just finished explaining everything Puck had told him, and swearing Kurt to secrecy. 

"No, not worried exactly—I mean, I'm anxious. I'm definitely anxious.”

“You’re always anxious,” Kurt sipped his coffee. 

“And like, confused, I guess? But not about—like, I really like Liron—Noah. His name is—his name is—this what I'm saying, is that the person I love is a guy now—"

"Technically he's always been a guy."

"Okay, okay, so does that mean I've always been attracted to guys?"

"Does it?"

"I don't know! I don't know if—I mean, Jonathan Groff is handsome. That's just true."

"I feel like we have different tastes, but okay."

"But also, I don't think I'd make out with Jonathan Groff if he asked, like I really don't think that I would. But I wanna make out with Noah _right now_ , like any time of the day. That sounds great."

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear it." 

“But Noah’s Noah now, and not the other name that I’m not gonna say, cause that’s rude. He’s a guy and I’m a guy, which means our relationship is gay—but that make _me_ gay?”

"Finn." He stopped short and turned to Kurt. "Has it occurred to you that it does not matter?" Finn stared at Kurt like he’d just torn off all his clothes and announced he was moving to a nudist colony in Napa Valley. Kurt sighed and set his coffee down. He gestured for Finn to come closer and took one of his hands in his. “I'm gay. I like saying that out loud. I like that part of me, and I like celebrating it. But there are people for whom the label simply does not matter, or the idea of picking a label or trying to define how they feel is stressful. And you can be one of those people. It's okay."

"Since when do you say 'for whom'?" 

Kurt sighed. “Finn, I am begging you to focus.” 

Fin chuckled. “Yeah—sorry. It’s really that simple?”

“Yes, Finn. Pride is something that’s supposed to bring you joy—if it’s making you anxious to think that you might be gay or bi or whatever, then just don’t think about it.”

“But shouldn’t I pick something? What if someone asks?” 

“Then they are being rude. Not everyone picks a label—that’s why ‘Queer’ exists. So you can say you love Noah without making yourself anxious. Some people are just out here vibing. You don’t have to name your vibe.”

Finn nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.” Kurt squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Kurt.”

“Of course,” he patted Finn’s hand and let him go. “Now, all that being said, I could not be more excited about this development.” 

“Oh no,” Finn’s eyes closed and his brow knitted together. 

“I’ve always wanted a queer sibling. Now we can talk about gay shit. I still haven’t finished the latest season of Drag Race, and I thinking of re-watching Revenge. You could—well, you can’t watch SYTYCD with ‘Cedes and me, that’s our thing. But we can have a thing!”

Finn dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “You know, it’s not often I wish I’d stayed in my homophobe phase.”

“And we can listen to the new Mitski album together. I want your opinion on some of the imagery she uses.” Finn meandered over to his bed and flopped onto it facedown. Kurt followed him and sat down on the edge. “And when I make fun of straight people you can laugh and it won’t be self-deprecating.” Finn made an intelligible noise into his pillow. Kurt patted his back. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this thing is gonna be so much longer than i thought ugh

Rachel hugged Finn goodbye after glee practice and gathered her sheet music for her traditional after-practice practice. Then she walked with Quinn, Brittany, and Santana to the gym where they joined the other Cheerios for practice. The football team didn’t have practice that afternoon, so she met Sam at the door so the two of them could walk together to the elementary school to pick up Stevie and Stacey. 

“What’d you think about this Sebastian thing?” Sam asked. 

“I think Dr. Pillsbury’s right,” Rachel said automatically. “We shouldn’t be getting into trouble on purpose. And I can’t risk being connected to something with so much negative press—directors Google you when they’re thinking about casting. If people think I’m a crazed, mutant vandal, there’s no way I’ll have my first Tony before 25.”

They made it to the end of the parking lot where Mercedes and Kurt were talking. Kurt looked at Rachel from over his sunglasses. “Berry.”

“Hummel,” she didn’t bother hiding the way her eyes rolled. 

Kurt turned to Mercedes. “We still on for So You Think You Can Dance tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Mercedes smiled. 

Kurt gave Sam and Rachel another look, lingering specifically on Sam for a moment. “See you tomorrow.”

“Unless you trip and fall in a hole,” Rachel batted her eyelashes at him.

Kurt smiled. “Kindly get hit by a bus. Ta-ta.” He waved and walked toward his car. 

“Can I walk with you guys?” Mercedes asked.

“You don’t have to ask,” Sam smiled and held his hand out to her. The thing between the two of them was still pretty new, and, as far as Rachel knew, ill-defined. But Mercedes walked with her and Sam whenever they went home together, and the two of them held hands. 

“You guys really think Sebastian’s tryna trick us with this whole party thing?” Mercedes asked. “I mean, he did invite us over specifically to trash his parents’ house. Seems like he’d leave that part out if he was being sneaky.”

“I donno,” Sam shrugged. “The idea that a bunch of us muties would _want_ to throw a rager like that might be enough for some people.”

“Plus there’s nothing in writing,” Rachel pointed out. “He just accosted Kurt and Santana at the Lima Bean, there’s no way for us to prove that he invited us and we didn’t just show up to wreck the place.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Mercedes nodded. “I guess I just can’t figure out what his motivation is, you know? Last time, his dad was pulling most of the strings, Sebastian just went along with it ‘cause he likes doing evil shit. Why would his dad go along with a plan to get their house fucked up?”

“Maybe he’s graduated to doing evil shit of his own volition,” Rachel said. 

“Could be an insurance scam,” Sam shrugged. “Invite us over and then claim a roving gang of weirdos smashed all their windows. Family that rich has gotta have a second house. We fuck up this one, they collect the payout and move to the lake house.”

“That’s a lotta work,” Mercedes said.

Sam shrugged again. “Could be worth it.”

“Whatever his reason, we shouldn’t go along with it.” Rachel shook her head. “We all have reputations to think about. I mean, what college is going to accept anyone with this kind of thing on their record?”

“I’m not saying we should do it,” Mercedes said. “I’m just saying it seems weird that Sebastian would want us to.” The three of them arrived at the elementary school. “This is my stop,” Mercedes’ route home took her down one street, the opposite direction of Rachel’s house. She smiled and squeezed Sam’s hand. He went to say goodbye, only to stop short when Mercedes leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Bye guys!” She walked away quickly.

When Sam, wide-eyed and awe-struck turned toward Rachel, she only smiled and laughed. When he got home that night, Sam asked Rachel and her dads to list every Broadway love song he could reasonably learn on his guitar by the end of the month.


End file.
